Memories of the past
by little princess
Summary: Not your usual christmas story. Wufei wonders if he is even allowed to do x-mas after all he has done.
1. Memories of the past

_I don't own anything in this fic but my imagination_

* * *

AC 199, x-mas eve

**Memories of the past**

The door opened quietly to allow for another beam of light to enter the room, which was small for this house. It clearly revealed a youth sitting on the other end. In front of him stood what looked like an altar, with candles mostly in green and white, standing on simple wooden shelves. On the left and on the right, similar dragons were drawn, their bodies thin and long, almost tangling themselves. Their eyes, though powerful, did not look angry and neither fire nor smoke came from their mouths. They were merely facing the altar and the small items it held.

Carefully, but certain to make a little noise as he walked, Milliardo entered the room, walking up behind the one kneeling on the pillow in front of the altar. The young, Asian man did not look up from his kneeling position, but kept his head down, toward his hands, which were placed palms together in front of his chest.

Milliardo knew the picture that stood on the altar's top shelve. He also knew the three items in front of the boy's knees, placed on a simple plate. One of them was an elastic band. It did not look like anything special, but it was to the one sitting down and praying. It had belonged to Wu Fei's father, who had used that to keep his hair in the traditional style the day he died. The second item was black belt. Though Wu Fei had another for when he was training, this had belonged to the fiancé who had been forced onto him, but whom he never got to actually take his vows for. She died before he could admit how much he admired her. The third and last item was the detonation switch he had used when he had blown up his dragon Nataku, the gundam better known as Shenlong.

Quietly, Milliardo knelt next to his housemate and looked at the altar. It was a sacred place to Wu Fei, and he honoured that, so he put his hands together the same way Wu Fei was doing and said a small prayer to a God he didn't really believe in. When he was done, he looked up at the picture on the top shelve. He knew only one person in there, the young child standing on the left side, trying to look as proud as all the others in the picture did, but somehow failing at that. The hand on Wu Fei's shoulder had belonged to his father, a proud man, looking almost as if he wished to defy the camera. All the males in the picture had their hair in the same style, bound back so tight that it had to be painful. Wu Fei still wore his ponytail like that.

Milliardo glanced around the room. The candles were nearly burned down and there were only two lights that were turned on dimly. His gaze ended at Wu Fei's kneeling figure. Remaining on his own knees, he spoke quietly. "Do you truly intend to spend the evening here?"

No answer.

"You have been here for nearly two hours. Please, Wu Fei, join me on this X-mas Eve. It is not right for anyone to spend it alone."

"Then go sit with Marie." Came the quiet answer.

"She is finally asleep." Milliardo answered. "But it is you I am referring to, not myself. Sitting here by yourself, praying again and again will not change anything, Wu Fei. Do you intend to spend the night here?"

The young man again refused to give an answer and that in itself was answer enough for Milliardo. With a sigh, he shifted, pulling his legs out from under him. He could not maintain this position for long.

The movement caught Wu Fei's attention only when he realised the taller, lighter man was not moving away.

"Forgive me, I mean no disrespect. I was just brought up with chairs." Milliardo murmured, rubbing his knees.

Wu Fei resumed his previous position and Milliardo let him. He remained there on the floor beside him.

It took ten minutes before Wu Fei finally spoke on his own, and that without breaking the kneeling position. "You are still here?"

"I do not believe you should spend this evening alone."

"But I deserve it." Wu Fei answered, looking up at the picture on that top shelve. It was showing signs of its years and was wrinkled badly, but Wu Fei had taken as good care as he could to straighten it out and place it in the frame so at least most of the faces could clearly be recognised. "While my friends fought to spare lives, I helped nearly start a war on this day two years back. The least I can do is give myself to my ancestors and those who died that day."

"You have done so faithfully for the past two hours." Milliardo answered. "Let that be enough for tonight. You came to your senses and not because of the victory or defeat you were aiming for. Had that truly been your goal, you would not have awaited Heero's arrival in outer space. You would have followed Dekim Barton to fight your other friends."

Wu Fei remained quiet for a while, but he did not resume his praying position. That was a hopeful thing to Milliardo.

"When I failed to kill Treize Kushrenada," he spoke quietly, "I believed I had no right to fight because I was weak. It was Sally Po -who, despite knowing she was weaker than the oppressive force, still continued to fight- who had to teach me weakness was not a reason to give up. Then I killed Treize in the next duel, but only after finding out he was human after all."

Milliardo nodded "Treize was very much human. An individual truly like no other. He knew the war was coming. It is my belief that he fought for power so that he could determine how the war would end. He wished to see it end as quickly as possible, but also to show the people an image as harsh as he could, in hopes of people remembering those images and working to carry on the peace once it was obtained."

"The end of the war..." Wu Fei took the detonation switch from the plate and looked at it. "It came so suddenly for me. I was lost when I was defeated by Treize and I was lost again when I defeated him in return. Was I strong now? Or was I still weak? Had I brought on the peace? Did I have that power? Did that mean I had the power to start a war again? The victor writes history, Milliardo. I had to see for myself whether that was true. And again I needed an outsider to show me. Sally Po showed me the value of fighting when you are weak. Heero Yuy showed me the value of peace when you were strong. How could I have been so evil, so wrong?"

Milliardo knew all this, but Wu Fei hardly spoke of it. He had learned from Heero what had passed between them and he understood Wu Fei's feeling he needed to redeem himself. He had spent a year trying to find a way to do so for himself. But he had only been able to come up with one thing.

"Living in the past, it is futile. You may remember it, carry it close to your heart, you may regret it, but what was done can not possibly be undone. Please, My love, come with me to the living room. Let two hours be enough and let us enjoy the privilege of peace together. It is what tonight stands for."

There was slight hesitation, but finally, Wu Fei put the detonation device back on the plate, put the palms of his hands together in front of his chest en bowed a final bow to the altar. Then he stood up and nodded. "Will you spar with me tonight?"

"Empty hands, swords or fencing?"

The rush that a fight brought along was still there. Both young men knew it and neither held back much, for they knew their partner could take it if a hit accidentally landed harder or different that what they had intended. Hardly any blow or kick ended wrong. They blocked and faked. They avoided and countered. Their faces were all concentration and neither the tall blond nor the short Asian would back out easily. This was one way they knew how to show each other respect. Losing on purpose would not be showing respect.

It was still just sparring, though, which allowed the match to go on for ten minutes, in which they often caught their breathes by circling each other and wondering what the next move would be and who would make it. They were not out to kill, only to hit. They knew it was the end when Wu Fei attacked on an opening that was not there. They knew it was over when he jumped in the air and aimed his foot for Milliardo's shoulder. They knew it was over when Milliardo caught the foot and twisted it and stepped aside to use the boy's own moving force against him. Wu Fei felt himself turn and miss. He landed hard on the mat and Milliardo towered over him.

"I forfeit." It was the right thing to do. Sometimes Wu Fei won, sometimes Milliardo won. It did not matter. The outcome was not what mattered, the fight was. For ten minutes they had felt part of the thrill they had felt when they had been soldiers fighting a real battle. Only a soldier could understand the bitter reward the body gave when you set out to harm and kill people. This time Wu Fei had made the mistake and Milliardo had won the match.

Wu Fei knew how to break his fall perfectly, but still Milliardo knelt by his lover's side. "Are you hurt?"

"Only my pride." The usual answer, but this time Wu Fei did not look up to him as he spoke it. "I have been meaning to ask you this, but I could not because I was afraid of the answer. Tonight I must know."

"What is it?" Milliardo asked him quietly.

"Promise me first, Milliardo." Wu Fei answered. "Promise me you will answer with the truthful answer, not the rightful one."

"On my honour." Milliardo worried slightly. Would Wu Fei really think he would lie to him? "The only rightful answer I can give you is the truth."

Wu Fei nodded and sat up. He lowered his head. A few strands of hair had come loose from the tight ponytail and now decorated his face by clinging on to the sweat. "Will you forgive me for what I did two years ago? Can you forgive me for knowingly going over to the evil side, for my own selfish reasons? Can you forgive me for being willing to find my way over other people's lives?"

"My hands are stained with blood no less than yours are and I was born and raised the pacifist way." Milliardo quietly lifted Wu Fei's head to look him in the eye. "I forgive you, Wu Fei Chang. I forgive you for all the evil you believe you have done, all the lives you took, directly and indirectly, for the sake of world peace and the peace of your own mind." He drew the young man's head closer and placed a kiss on his forehead. "You are clean to me. I forgive you." He pulled the other man against himself. He smelled the sweat of his partner and could not help but enjoy the scent. Only Wu Fei smelled like that.

Cushions had been placed by the hearth and a good fire was burning. Only a few Christmas decorations decorated the room. They wanted no more. Though Milliardo had been raised in a country that was Christian from origin, Wu Fei had not been raised so. Aside from that, Christmas, which was now originally spelled X-mas, no longer stood for the birth of Christ, who was not born in a stable, but a cave, as Duo had once seemed to explain. X-mas eve was to be together with those closest to you. The first X-mas day was used to remember all those who had died in the war. Many gatherings were organised where previous soldiers got rewards and good words for their brave deeds. The second X-mas day was widely accepted as the day to celebrate the peace, to celebrate life.

Neither Wu Fei nor Milliardo believed they belonged somewhere on those days. Both had played the bad guy. True, for Milliardo it had been to end a war and Wu Fei had not directly killed with this method, but that was merely an excuse to the facts. They sat together on the cushions, shoulders touching, staring into the fire as they each had a glass of wine.

"I like it here. We should sit here more often." Milliardo remarked without looking up. "On the ground like this, right in front of the fire."

"Yes, we should." Wufei also kept his gaze to the fire and he sipped his wine.

They heard the creaking in the hallway before the door opened and an electric wheelchair carrying a little girl stood in the door opening. Both men looked at the visitor.

"Marie." Milliardo said quietly. "What are you doing here. You should be asleep."

The nine-year-old girl looked at him doubtfully. Her teddy bear pyjamas was all she wore and she shivered. "Father Milliardo. I couldn't sleep. I had a nightmare."

"What did you Dream of?" The prince asked, getting up from the floor.

Marie looked down at her hands in her lap.

"You dreamt of the past, didn't you?" Milliardo knelt in front of Marie's wheelchair and the little girl nodded.

"Do you want to walk about it?" Wu Fei had moved as well and stood now behind Milliardo, a blanket in his hands, which he placed over the shivering girl.

Marie looked up hesitantly and then shrugged.

"What do you remember of it?" Milliardo spoke again.

It was silent for a moment before the little girl spoke. "My mother always spoke of my real father." She said quietly. "It's one of the first things I remember. And when she died and I was taken in by my grandfather, he taught me that the world would be a great place soon. We would be victorious. We would rule. And if anybody retaliated we would show them the endless waltz of war, peace and revolution and how a revolution would be meaningless under his rule."

He voice was quiet and she seemed to hesitate. But then she continued.

"Then the war ended, and we were not victorious. He never really saw me before, but now he told me my father was dead and finally he seemed to care for me. He said he was old, and I was young. He said the war was not over. He said I would be victorious in the end. He would take care of that." She frowned. "I was brought up with expensive words, I guess, but the words he used were more expensive. I didn't really understand what he was saying. I still don't understand what happened, but he finally gave me attention so I learned his speeches to keep him from turning away. Eve if I didn't know what they meant."

Tears were now in the eyes of the girl and her voice had faltered at those last words. Milliardo gently picked her up from the chair to move her to the cushions, where the three of them sat down, in front of the fire.

"I'll tell you the same thing I told your Father Wu Fei." Milliardo said to the girl. "Living in the past, it is futile. You may remember it, carry it close to your heart, you may regret it, but what was done can not possibly be undone."

Wu Fei added to that. "You will learn about the war in school and you will learn that most people you know fought in the war. We fought willingly and you will learn in time of what we have done. You were a seven-year-old girl reciting what you had been taught by someone who should have loved you even without your heritage. You will learn that we were grown ups, or nearly so, when we did what we did."

"You fought for my father's real ideals, didn't you?" The young girl asked her surrogate parents. She may be only nine, but she had been through a lot already and she had seen so much. They knew she was strong and tough. They both knew they did not need to sugar coat the war layers thick. So they spoke the truth to her, mostly at least. She had asked what they had done and all they had said was that it was not all pretty. The rest she would learn in school, as the victor chose to put them down.

"Midii Une and myself were the two people closest to your father and we often have discussions of what his ideals really were." Milliardo answered. "Father Wu Fei fought your father on a level where he also got to see some of him and he believes something different again. Your father was a very smart man, Marie, and my closest friend since I was your age. I don't think anybody ever really understood what went on in his head. But all three of us agree that he loved mankind and sacrificed himself to end the war."

"Will Midii be here tomorrow?" The young girl asked with a yawn.

"No. We will be going to her, remember?"

"Oh. Right." The girl tiredly rested her head against Milliardo's chest. Wu Fei brushed the red hair out of her eyes. It was growing well, that hair. She wanted it to well over her shoulders, like on the picture she had of her real mother. Trowa had given it to her when she came to live with Milliardo and Wu Fei.

Gently, Wu Fei brushed the girl's right eyebrow. She'd wanted that to be forked, like her father's, so she had taken a pair of scissors once and played with it to get that fork. The wound had needed stitches, but luckily only a small scar remained and you had to look for it to see it.

The young girl's breath evened out. Wu Fei and Milliardo looked at each other. Tomorrow there would be gathering to attend, and the day after would be for the celebrations, where everybody would act happy even if they were not. Then they had to act as well. Not that it would be so bad. They all lived far away from each other and it really was good to see the other pilots again, so once a year. It would be fun.

But tonight was their night, just the three of them together on the floor. Forgiven, but never forgotten.

* * *

_The End_


	2. What the present gives

_AC 199, 1st X-mas day_

**What the present gives**

She woke up well before dawn settled in. That in itself was not unusual, as the sun did not rise until nine-o'clock during these winter months, but from the hands on her little clock she made out it was much earlier that usual. It was only nearing six am, but she knew she would not be able to sleep anymore. With a sigh, she turned around in her bed and closed her eyes, but sleep just would not come.

It was barely after six o'clock that she decided to get up. It was X-mas today and she realised that all too well. Other boys and girls from her school would be running down the stairs right now, looking for the presents under the tree. Or some of them would not get presents until tomorrow. Those of them would have parents who had lost more than one person close to them during the war. Those parents would honour the new meaning of Christmas and spend today with an air of serenity and would not celebrate until tomorrow.

For Marie, there would be no gift waiting this morning. Perhaps tomorrow, but she had rather father Milliardo and father Wu Fei would forget about it. She did not deserve it. She was nine years old now and she understood so much more than she had two years ago when she had been only seven.

Quietly, she got out of bed, heaving herself into the wheelchair. Father Wu Fei hated wasting time and he would tell her to do something useful if she woke early, rather than remaining in her bed like some lazy child. So she took a blanket with her and headed out of the room quietly. She could have dressed. It took effort to do it all herself, but she was capable of doing so. But since they would be going away later today one of her fathers at least would insist on her bathing first and she really had trouble doing that on her own. Not to mention she could not do it without waking someone with the noise she would make.

She directed the chair towards the stairs and skilfully lifted herself into the elevator, before pushing the button that would take her down. Downstairs, another chair awaited her and she transferred to that one. She easily stirred it down the long hall past the library, where she had found the two men yesterday. They had gone to bed at some point during the evening, as the cushions were vacated now.

Sometimes she thought it was funny that the two males shared a bed. She remembered very well how her grandfather had said it was not right to share a bed with someone of your own gender. Filthy, was what he had called it. All Marie thought at those moments was how she remembered crawling into her mother's bed after a bad dream. Would that make her filthy as well? She didn't think father Milliardo and father Wu Fei were filthy.

She continued on to the dining room. The table was all set for this morning's breakfast. Only the food needed to be added, but it was much too early. Her fathers would not be up for another few hours at least. But Marie was nine now, which meant she was old enough to spend that time alone. So long as she did not leave the house. It was too cold to go outside anyway and it was raining.

Then she smelled something coming from the kitchen. Was father Wu Fei perhaps up already? The chair took her there quickly enough but it was not Wu Fei whom she saw. Daise, the cook, was nothing like Wu Fei. She was tall for a woman, her short, red hair was held together by a hair net and her hands were kneading dough. Marie entered and glanced at the over. Sure enough the shapes of croissants were already forming there.

The cook gave a yelp when she turned around looking for more flour and she saw the wheelchair. "Marie! You startled me."

"I'm sorry, Miss Daise." Marie answered, smiling lightly. "I thought you didn't have to work these days. Didn't father Milliardo give all the staff the X-mas off?"

"Oh I know, I know." The woman brushed her eyebrow with the back of her hand, but could not fully keep a smear of white from appearing. "But you know those two men. They would eat yesterday's bread and not even bother to look for something like muffins. I just wanted you to have something better for breakfast."

Daise was one of those people who got lucky during the war. She had suffered little hunger and she had only lost two cousins who had signed up for Oz's military force. Marie glanced at the woman's stomach. That child in there would get his or her presents on the first day of X-mas.

The cook frowned at the clock and then back at the girl. "And what are you doing up so early, missy? I never see you here before seven-thirty when it is not a school morning."

Marie shrugged. "I can't sleep anymore."

"Ah, all excited about the x-mas, are you?" The woman smiled and Marie smiled in return to be polite. "So am I, I must say." Daise continued. "Today we will be leaving for George's family on L4. That is always so much fun, we play games together all evening and we use peanuts for money to wager against each other."

"That sounds really nice, Miss Daise." Marie answered, smiling a fake smile that she knew the cook would not recognise.

"Well, until then, I'm up and baking breakfast here. Care to help me get these muffins done?"

Treize. That she could not be with his child every day was her own fault. She had wanted to, but circumstances had forced her to rethink the matter. Had Zechs not agreed to take her in then she would have found a way around everything to take care of the child herself. She rubbed her stomach. That would never produce any children, let alone those of a dead man.

* * *

The doorbell rang and the woman looked up. She ran a hand through the bangs that hung loosely over her shoulders -she had to look her best for Treize's only child, after all- and headed to the door. There they stood, Zechs tall as ever, the Chinese Wu Fei not quite as tall and little Mariemaia, who would only need two or three more years to outgrow the smaller man. Would she be as tall as her father, one day? Or would her mother's length keep her down? She wished to be around at least long enough to see. She hoped it would be possible to measure, as the girl would never get out of that wheelchair again.

"Come in." She said with a smile, mostly meant for the little girl and she stepped aside to allow them entrance.

"It's good to see you again, Midii." Zechs replied politely.

She waited for them to hang their coats and led them to her living room. Her house was not nearly the size of theirs, but then she had no royal background. She did not really mind, though. Her own house was big enough. It had five bedrooms and two bathrooms and she only lived there alone. "Would you prefer tea or coffee?"

"If you have I'd prefer coffee. Extra strong." Zechs answered and Wu Fei agreed.

"Of course. And what would you like?" She leaned down to be on eye level with Mariemaia.

"Apple juice, please." So polite, as always and a little shy as well. Midii had never thought the young girl could be shy when she first met her, ready to be ruler of the world, or more like a puppet dressed pretty, strings attached to every cell of her being.

"Why don't you join me in the kitchen?" She asked. "You can pick out what to have with the coffee. And the apple juice."

"Alright." Mariemaia smiled. When she was allowed to leave the hospital, Midii had taken her in. She had shown her pictures of her father, pictures in much less formal settings than the two or three pictures her grandfather had shown her. She had also spoken of a wonderful man who could have ruled the world, but somehow this woman had been different from her grandfather. It had felt different.

Once alone in the kitchen, Midii smiled at her. "So, how has this little princess been doing lately?"

"I've been just fine, Midii." The girl answered as Midii Une started preparing for the coffee. "Can I help with anything?"

"Well, as I said, you can pick out the cookies. You remember where they are?"

"I remember." The girl answered. "You always let me pick out the cookies. Do you have cupcakes?" She was already opening the correct cupboard.

"I don't know." Midii answered. "See for yourself." She turned on the switch to heat the coffee and glanced at Mariemaia, easily moving the chair back to avoid the door of the cupboard she was opening.

"Ohh, pink cakes!" The girl exclaimed, pulling out the cakes with the pink top. "I love those!"

"Well, pink cakes it is then. The coffee will be done soon. How have you been doing in school?"

"I've been doing fine." She said. "Although the mathematics is rather difficult. With smaller numbers it's not so bad but when we have to divide larger numbers, or multiply them, it gets really hard. I barely managed to finish my previous test in time."

"I see. Math is a difficult subject, and unfortunately it is only going to get worse." She chuckled. "But I don't suppose that's helping much, is it?"

"Not really." Mariemaia answered, taking the cakes and apple juice to the living room.

"It gets more interesting, though." Midii answered, following the girl, carrying the milk and sugar. "When you get to work with more concrete things, not like apples to add or pies to divide, but with graphics, rates, how much profit is increasing or decreasing, how criminality numbers went down and then knowing you worked for that. Or if you can estimate how things will be next year based on the numbers from the previous years. That is what you do all the basic work for now."

"We have been here for barely two minutes and already you are convincing her to come work for you when she grows up." Zechs remarked. "Honestly, Midii, give her a chance to grow up."

It was said with a light air. She had spent many an evening with Zechs –he preferred the other name, but to her he would always be Zechs Merquise- after the first war, talking about the war, about Treize. It had allowed for a sense of trust and respect to grow between them. It was something they had lacked as rivals for Treize's attention and approval. Now Treize was gone and they were rivals no more.

"Who knows," Midii replied, "perhaps one day she will sit in my chair. She is the future working generation, after all."

"Perhaps for older people she would be." That was Wu Fei's input. "She is not fifteen years your junior. When she is ready for her first real job, we will not even be halfway in our years of career."

"That's good then, isn't it?" Marie put in. "It means you won't leave me alone for a long time yet."

"I think the coffee should be done by now." Midii announced. "And Mariemaia, you must let me do your hair before we go out. Those two men honestly know little about appearances. They allowed it to get all tangled up. I could braid it, if you prefer."

* * *

The first grave they visited was for Wu Fei. Milliardo and Midii took Marie for a walk in the park nearby and let Wu Fei do this visit on his own. They found him twenty minutes later, still at the grave, kneeling.

Wu Fei wondered if the elders knew he was praying to them. The colony had been completely obliterated and there had been no telling which dust clouds were once human and which had been colony parts. The grave here was just a headstone for those few of L5 who had survived that day, simply by not being there at the moment of destruction. Wu Fei was one of them, one of the very few, and often enough he hated that.

He still hated the Elders for doing this more than he could pronounce. They had taken from him everything that he knew, everything he had concretely fought for. After that, all that was left to fight for was abstract idealism, colonies housing people he'd never heard of or seen before. That was the hardest part of all; to fight when there was nothing left to return to if you won.

The elders were not here anymore. It was strange to feel anger along with all the love and respect you held for some person, but Wu Fei could not help feeling it. He was happy when he thought of Milliardo coming home from work before the day was over and he enjoyed the time he got to spend with Marie. His martial arts school was small now, but he did not mind much. Perhaps in the future, he could learn to forgive himself and live in happiness.

He heard footsteps approaching quietly and stood up. He had been here long enough, it was time to let Milliardo and Midii have their turn to remember those they had lost. He took a few more moments to look at the grave he knew he would visit again next year. Strong arms wrapped around him gently and he felt Milliardo place a kiss in the top of his head. "Take all the time you need, my love." He spoke quietly.

Wu Fei shook his head and raised an arm to lower Milliardo's. "I am done." He allowed his hand to slip into that of his lover and they started back quietly. Time to move on.

The nameless graves were stretched out for acres, each holding remains of what they thought had to belong to one soldier but could not be identified. Or rather, they would not be identified. DNA tests were possible and people were beginning to speak up that they wished to know where their sons and brothers, and occasionally daughters and sisters were buried. After the first war the influential people had thought it best to bury the past as quickly as possible and with that the remains of all those soldiers not yet identified.

It was a shame, really. Milliardo quietly looked over the ocean of gravestones, Midii walking among them as if trying to pay respect to each soldier per row. Milliardo had lost friends in the war. They might not have been so close as Treize had been, but they had been friends, colleagues, men and women who had talked about their lives away from the war, their families.

As Zechs Merquise he had spoken of it as well. He had told his colleagues that he had a sister somewhere, that she would not even be sixteen and that he had no idea of where she was. The war had separated them, just like the war had taken his parents away. That was a fact shared by more of his colleagues than he had initially expected.

And what was there left to do for a young boy who had lost everything to the war but to fight it? Treize Kushrenada had helped him get to where he wanted to be, though he had never played favourites. If anything, he had been harder on Zechs than on any of the other soldiers, always pushing for better than average, better that good. Milliardo believed that might be the only reason he was still alive this day. Yet if that were completely true, then why was Treize dead?

He wondered how many bodies were buried here that he knew. He wondered how many of them had been friend and how many had been foe. He looked at Midii. She was returning now, slowly, still pausing thoughtfully at every row.

Sometimes Milliardo did not know whether he should be happy that he survived the war or not. Wu Fei and Marie, that was all that would make him answer 'yes'. What else did he have in this life? He had survived, but the place that should have been his home was not there anymore. With him unable to lead the pacifist country and Relena having decided she wanted to follow into her father's footsteps, the place had become a democracy, the president and the ruling factions elected democratically every few years.

He looked at the graves again and wondered where the person buried in this grave would be now had he survived. He wondered that a lot. Otto, for example, who had taken on a suit he knew he could not destroy for Milliardo's believes. Would he still be an idealist after the war, or would he have grown up and started a family of his own? Or Alex, who had shown what the bad side in a human was capable of. Would he still be friends with that Mueller? Milliardo shook his head. He did not know.

Wu Fei and Marie came to join him. Though Wu Fei felt not half as strong about these nameless soldiers as he did about his ancestors and his elders, he acknowledged that there had to be people here who had fought and died for his side. Perhaps the fact that this place could hold so many people whose lives he had taken was what held him back.

Midii returned to them and now there was only one grave left to visit. Perhaps this visit was the hardest of all, for all four of them. To them, Treize Kushrenada was not only a name that had held influence, it was also a man who had changed their lives. To others the name still struck fear, but not to them. To them, he was a gentle flame that would always keep on burning in the back of their hearts.

Midii who had loved and believed in him so much that she followed him unconditionally, even when she could not see where his orders were leading.

Marie, who knew this man was the father in whose name she had done bad things, because she had always been told tales about his greatness.

Wu Fei, who had gained Treize's respect by stepping out of his gundam to fight the man on his ground, his terms, and who had later ended up killing him.

And, of course, Milliardo himself, who had been changed, and set on a path that would only lead to destruction.

That was what Treize meant to them.

The grave was like any other grave here, nameless, but many accepted it as Treize's grave. It had been clad multiple times, sometimes with words that were too vile to speak, sometimes with words of glory yet to come. Midii took Marie there first. She knelt at the young lady's side and they spoke softly of that man whose remains were said to be buried here. They stayed for ten minutes before letting the other two go forth. Wufei and Zechs went there together. They knelt together and they were silent as Wu Fei preyed and Zechs did something similar, only not following any ritual. The conversation he held was more of a monologue, though.

Treize, who had meant so much to the four of them once was dead now. He had been so for years and still each of them felt the loss as they stood there, staring at the stone that held no name. Treize was gone now and they had built their lives with only the memory of him. They lived without him now and they managed. It was sad to say, but they managed rather well without him. The man could no longer influence their lives. The fire that had once raged ruthlessly in Wufei as they fought was no longer needed in this peaceful world. The advice of what step to take next had not been needed really since they day that Zechs' mask broke and the warrior Zechs became prince Milliardo. Still, it would have been welcome, had Treize been alive now.

Midii missed him more than perhaps any of them. Lovers they had been at one point. Milliardo could remember the rustle of silk sheets warning him not to come in, just as he knew it had warned Midii when he had been there instead of her. They both knew, they hated each other for it back then, but now they knew they had both lost the same man.

* * *

Darkness came early in the winters here on earth. The sky was already turning a darker blue when they returned to Midii's home, where, with Marie's help, she then warmed the food she had coked the previous days and they sat down to eat. The night had fallen fully when she put Marie to bed and Wu Fei and Milliardo opened a bottle of wine.

"'Merry Christmas' holds so little meaning these days." Milliardo mumbled as he raised his glass in a toast.

"Are there still people who phrase that?" Wu Fei asked, answering the toast with his own.

"Only the lucky ones." Milliardo replied. "Those who have not experienced the war as up close as we have." He sipped his wine thoughtfully. "Do you ever wish things were different? That the war never happened, at least not for you?"

"That I could be one of those lucky ones?" Wu Fei asked. "Nearly every day. Although then I would be either dead along with the rest of my people, or stuck in a life where I did not really belong."

"I suppose." Milliardo answers. "But you are a stubborn man. I think you would have been able to tell your elders what you truly wanted."

"It is not a matter of personality. It is a matter of culture. Here people see their elders as outdated, perhaps weak, ready to meet their end and make way for a new generation. Here fathers and mothers beyond eighty are put in homes where other people, professionals, can look after them. In my culture the elders were respected, seen as wise. They knew what was good for you and they were respected. I would have done as they told me once I passed the age of fifteen where adolescence is said to be at its peak. I would not have been happy."

"And now?" Milliardo extended a hand to the Chinese. "Are you happy now, my love?"

But before Wu Fei could answer, Midii returned. "She'll be asleep soon enough. She was exhausted."

"That is understandable." The blond male answered, reluctantly drawing back in his chair. "It was an emotional day for us all. Would you join us with a glass of wine?"

Midii walked to the couch and sat down, but did not answer.

"Midii?" Milliardo asked, reaching for the bottle, but the woman shook her head.

"I have a confession to make." She said quietly, not looking at either of them

The two young men frowned and looked at her. "Yes?"

Midii hesitated. It worried Milliardo

"Whatever it is, milady, do tell us. Are you in some sort of trouble?"

"No, no. That's not it."

"Then what is it?" The former prince asked again.

The words were silent. "It is Treize." The name was spoken with love and loss together. "His remains are not in that grave we visited."

"Chances that they are, are indeed very slim. But, we..."

"They can not be there, for I have them."

The two looked at her, but neither could find the words they did not need to.

"I had his remains brought to me. So little was left. Most of him was burned in the explosion, but enough was left to identify him upon sight. Those eyes could only be his. I had him cremated. He preferred that, Treize told me so once. He wished to burn rather than rot in the earth. So I granted the one wish I could grant him and burned him. And he has been here, in my home ever since. In an urn, hidden behind locked little doors."

* * *

_-princess_


End file.
